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The first thing that the man remembers is pain.
Then, after that, confusion; his vision is blurry and the room is spinning around him, but even through the fog of his mind, he can see there are two people standing over him. This raises the question of how he got onto the floor in the first place to his mind, and despite his valiant efforts, his brain comes up empty. All he knows is that his head is absolutely pounding, the red splotches on the floor might be blood– his blood– and the two people above him are talking to each other almost frantically. He can only somewhat make out what they’re saying.
He only catches a few words– “what”, “bleeding”, and “soup” being some of them– and then there’s a yelp that makes the pain in his head a million times worse and sends tears rolling down his cheeks. He covers his ears with his hands and tries to curl up in a ball, but he finds he can’t get his body to move through the pain. One of the people above him crouches down beside him and mouths some words that he can’t quite make out. When he doesn’t respond, they bite the inside of their cheek and turn back to the other person briefly.
The next time they turn back to him, they don’t speak. Instead, they sign the words “can you hear me?” He shakes his head and signs back “who are you?”. As his eyes focus more, he can see a look of visible shock on the person’s face. They turn back to the other person to seemingly relay information before turning their head back to him. “Soup,” they sign, adding on “my pronouns are she/her” and “you” as an afterthought. She looks almost hopeful, and he can’t quite figure out why. After a moment, he realises that Soup is probably expecting him to tell her his name, but it’s almost like the space in his brain where his name is supposed to be has been completely wiped clean. In fact, his whole brain is like that; the farthest back he can remember is waking up down in whatever this place is. He bites his lip and shrugs, and Soup’s face immediately falls. She stands up and walks back over to the other person. This time, he can pick up a little bit more of their conversation. “He– remember– hit his head– that’s why?” The other person replies something along the lines of “Don’t trust– he did.” Soup’s tone changes entirely at that remark, but he doesn’t catch what she replies with because he shifts his attention to his surroundings. It’s hot, almost excruciatingly so, and he quickly realises why once he takes a look around.
There’s lava; in fact, there’s bucketfuls of it streaming down the sides of the walls and seeping into the cracks of the blackstone floor. The whole corridor he had found himself in was slowly filling with lava. He couldn’t fully see what was at the end of the corridor, but he could just about make out some iron bars. He feels his heart drop down to his stomach as he quickly realises just what this place is.
It’s a prison.
He winces from the pain as he tries to move his hands to plant them on the ground so he can sit up, only to discover they are chained in front of him. He is swiftly overwhelmed with panic. He can’t move, why can’t he move? Why is he down here with these unfamiliar people in this unfamiliar, boiling hot room with his hands chained together?
Why can’t he remember the answers to any of those questions?
Soup must hear the chains moving as he tries to sit up, because she immediately turns to face him with a look of fear on her face that is quickly replaced by one of relief, then worry. She rushes over to him, crouching beside him. The other person with her yells out to her, something that he still can’t make out, but Soup replies from right next to him, and that he can hear. She snaps back at the other person, “Honestly, Kyle, I don’t care right now! If there’s a chance that the person I knew is still in there somewhere, then we can’t just leave him here to… well, to die!”
The other person– Kyle, apparently– bites his lip and stands there for a moment, clearly debating his options. Finally, he sighs and walks over to him, helping him sit upright. “Can you hear us now?” He nods, so Kyle continues. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer as best and as honestly as you can, okay? We’ll start simple: where are we right now?”
“I don’t know.” His voice is scratchy, raw, and wholly unfamiliar. “We’re in some sort of prison, though…”
Kyle looks conflicted, biting the inside of his cheek for a moment before continuing. “What happened during the election?”
He tilts his head, confused. “Sorry, what election? Is there some sort of government here?”
“Not anymore, there isn't,” Kyle shakes his head and sighs. “What’s your opinion on tieflings?”
His confusion builds with every question Kyle asks him. “I don’t think I’ve ever met one, so I can’t say… What do tieflings have to do with this?”
Kyle shares a look with Soup, who shakes her head as if to silently communicate something. Finally, Kyle turns back to look at him. “I don’t think now’s the right time to tell you that. Now, last question: who is Puddy?”
“I don’t know. That’s an odd name though, but I guess to each their own?” He shrugs.
Soup crosses her arms over her chest as she looks at Kyle. “Now do you believe me? He truly doesn’t remember.”
Kyle pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs once more. “Fine, I believe you. I just don’t know how we’re going to explain this to the others considering everything that happened.”
“I can handle it. I’m a medic, so most people trust me and my judgement; if anyone can pull this off, it’s me.” Soup looks confident in her abilities, and it rubs off on him.
“You’re doing all the talking, then. You’re better at words than I am; you explain what happened,” Kyle finally concedes.
Soup grins, a visible spark of hope in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, it can’t get any worse, right?”
—
It did, in fact, get worse. He couldn’t even get a good gulp of fresh air before questions and accusations were being thrown at him left and right.
Two unfamiliar people were conversing softly outside the cabin that sheltered the prison before they both heard the door open and turned back around.
“What the–” The one on the right speaks up first, more shocked than anything.
The person on the left’s expression, however, was one of fury and of poorly concealed fear. “No, no, no, why did you bring him back up? What happened to leaving him down there to burn like he deserves?”
Kyle sighs, motioning with his hand to the person on the right. “This is Red, he/him. The person next to him is Krow, it/its.”
Krow curses under its breath and tries to lunge at Owen, but Red grabs it before it can get very far. “We don’t have time for this, man. We need to get the fuck out of here. Come on, I’ll lead you guys into the maze,” Red speaks up. He seems to have a red mask over his face and a suit covering his body.
“Fuck no, I’m not going into the maze with him! You know exactly what he tried to do to me! You can’t ask me to be all buddy-buddy with him after that.” It looks like it’s just about seething with anger, and that anger is quickly turned towards Red. “For fuck’s sake, Red, I trusted you out of all people to believe me about what happened in the maze.”
“You do not have to like him,” Soup finally says. “You don’t even have to talk with him if you are so hellbent on it, but he deserves to live just like the rest of us, yeah? All I’m asking is that you give him a chance. And hey, if it comes out that he’s not telling the truth, I’ll let you slit his throat yourself, okay?”
Krow scoffs and rolls its eyes, but after a few moments of silence in which it realises that, yes, Soup is serious, it speaks up again. “Fine, but if you step even one foot out of line, I’ll finish what I started back in that damned maze. Got it?”
The way it glares at him takes his words away from him, so he settles for a meek nod instead.
Red starts to walk off and motions for the other four to follow him, so they obey. Soup and Kyle stay right by the other man’s side as they walk, and Krow isn’t far behind. A soft murmuring grows increasingly louder as they travel through the forest into a true clearing, then stops altogether once they come into the line of sight of the people who were speaking. They are all gathered just inside the entrance to some dark corridor, and they are all staring . The man feels at least half a dozen pairs of eyes trained on him at once, and it makes his skin crawl.
“Red, what did you do,” a shaky voice asks. “Wh– why? Why would you bring him back up here?”
Soup speaks up, her voice stern. For some reason, that seems out of character for her. “If you’re going to blame anyone, blame me; it was my idea, not Red’s. As for why I did it, I’ll explain that in a second if everyone can promise they’ll hear me out.” There’s a few moments of tense silence, but eventually there are a few murmurs of agreement and some nods of head, so Soup continues on. “Alright. I’ll preface what I’m about to say with this: even I didn’t want to believe this at first, but… well, he genuinely doesn’t remember what he’s done. He hit his head hard going down into the prison and passed out, and when he woke back up, he couldn’t hear for a few minutes, let alone remember anything from before he hit his head. We even asked him questions that are basic knowledge to everyone in the clearing, and he couldn’t answer. He’s not the person he was before.”
The conversation quickly devolves into a full-on argument, which was not helped by the fact that it was fueled by fear and suspicion. Owen quickly grows tired of it and, even though he knows it’s not his place to do so, especially after finding out that he did horrible, horrible things before losing his memory, he speaks up. “Will someone just explain to me what’s going on?”
A voice he hasn’t heard speak before echoes through the corridor. “You want to know what happened? You want to know what you did? You killed three people and injured another, one of which you called your best friend. You–”
Kyle cuts the person off, looking horrified. “Magic, that’s enough!”
Magic just continues on. “You were going to wipe the tieflings out if Krow hadn’t survived and found its way back to the clearing.” She stands up and slowly walks towards him. “We found your journals, you know. You studied them like they were animals . You watched Rasbi for months, stalking her. Guts, too. But Apo? Apo was different. You must have found him in the maze. He caught you by surprise, didn’t he? Was it then that you decided that you needed to kill them all? Or was it before then?” She’s up in his face at this point, just about snarling at him. “ Did you think about killing me? What about Squidney, or Graecie, the people who showed you nothing but kindness? I bet you did. I bet this whole memory loss thing is just a ruse, too. Well, guess what: I’m tired of it. I’m tired of being played over and over again. I’m done being used as a means to an end.” She pauses for a moment. “I’m done being your pawn, Owen .”
With that one simple word, the floodgates break open and the man– Owen – starts openly sobbing. “I don’t know what I did, Magic, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I did that I don’t remember, for all the pain I put you all through. I just… is that my name? Owen?”
The look of anger on Magic’s face immediately fades into one of slight dismay. "...You didn’t even know your name?”
Owen shakes his head, sniffling. “I don’t even know what I look like…” He hears Red sigh from behind him at that.
“We have to keep moving,” Red speaks up. “The lava’s only going to continue to rise. We can talk about this later, when we get to higher ground.”
There are quiet murmurs of agreement from those surrounding Magic and Owen. A woman with flowers braided into her hair speaks up, her voice hoarse. Owen belatedly realizes that she, too, has probably been crying. “Red’s right. Let’s keep moving.” She has another woman by her side, who has a crown on her head. Everyone seems to have someone near them they trust, all except for Owen.
(And yet, if he thinks hard enough, he can vaguely remember a time when he did have someone that he trusted. He remembers baking a pie for them, fishing with them, tending to the crops with them.
If he thinks hard enough, he also remembers their lever, their lies, their choices.
“Don’t
think
it, don’t
speak
it, we are through–”
He doesn’t want to remember that.)
He comes out of his memories, and he’s sitting by a campfire, staring off into the starry night sky. He can hear soft snoring emanating from somewhere nearby; the others must be sleeping by now. Why isn’t he?
He isn’t given enough time to ponder that thought because someone speaks up from behind him. “Can’t sleep?” Owen jumps and looks over at the person, realizing that it’s just Magic and quickly relaxing. He shakes his head and pats the spot next to him as an invitation for her to sit down, which she takes. “I can’t sleep either… Nightmares, you know? I’ve seen so much destruction here; it’s hard to get it out of my head.” There’s a lull in the conversation for a few moments. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I, uh, used to trust people a lot easier than I do now.”
“It’s okay. If what you said earlier was true, I wouldn’t trust me, either…” Owen hesitates for a few moments before speaking again. “I… Magic, I remembered something– or, well, some one . I think we were friends, I just can’t remember their name… I remember baking a pie, an apple pie. I don’t know why, but I think that was important? Like, uh, like it connected to them somehow?”
Magic makes a soft noise in between a chuckle and a sigh. “I think you’re talking about Apo. You, him, and Rasbi called yourselves the fruit trio, since all of your names sounded like fruits.”
Many memories fall into place all at once, and Owen feels tears well up again as he reminisces. He remembers the night he, Rasbi, and Apo declared themselves the fruit trio. He remembers the night that he talked to Apo about the future from the time the sun went down and the doors closed for the night until the sun rose over the horizon and the doors opened again. He remembers them: Rasbi and Apo.
He remembers, he remembers, he remembers!
“Please, tell me more? I want to hear it, all of it. I want to remember.”
Maybe he would get his memories back, maybe he wouldn’t; either way, he will figure it out one step at a time like he has since the minute he came to in that prison. He will figure it out, and he will avenge those that he hurt before his memories were wiped–
–even if he dies trying.
For Guts.
For Rasbi.
For Apo.